The Taming of the Tooth
by The Red Hoodie
Summary: What if it was Hermione that left Harry and Ron during their quest to find the Horcruxes? She ends up in America, and comes across the complex world of mutants.
1. Into The Darkness

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I own the writing and story.**

Fandoms: Harry Potter, X-Men  
>Notes: Based off a graphic I made for a blind-date challenge on tumblr.<br>Summary: What if it was Hermione that left Harry and Ron during their quest to find the Horcruxes? She ends up in America, and comes across the complex world of mutants.

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**Into The Darkness**

Hermione couldn't believe it as she walked away from her two best friends. She had lost so much in the past few months. Her whole life never existed; her parents didn't know they had a daughter, they didn't even miss her. She had given up her innocence and had her heart broken from more than just puppy love. She had been forced to give up her education…break laws and give up her Muggle life.

Wiping away the tears that fell down her cheeks, she sniffed, clutching the string of her bag. She didn't even think of how Harry and Ron would handle moving their things, but her head was so flooded that she couldn't even sort through enough to make any comprehensive thoughts.

With an intake of breath, Hermione Apparated without thinking of her destination clearly. If she wasn't careful, she could end up Splinched, but luckily, she landed, rather hard, on damp pavement on her hands and knees. Fortunately it wasn't in the middle of a road either, so it was possible for her to stay in that crouched position and not get run over by a vehicle.

Her ears popped from the Apparation, and finally, after a few deep breaths, she stood, wiping wet hands on her dirty jeans and looking around. She was in a city; it didn't appear to be anywhere she recognized. Sniffing, she pushed loose hairs behind her ears and started walking. She didn't know when she would go back to Harry and Ron. Deep down, beneath all of the emotional struggles, she knew that she would have to go back to them eventually. But not now…she had to clear her head.

Hearing some friendly sounding music, Hermione started heading in that general direction, hoping to find people and cover. The more people, the easier it was for her to hide and escape if Death Eaters found her.

The alleyways she was walking through started becoming decorated with strings of paper lanterns and around another block, she would be around people, Muggles.

However, she took a wrong turn, landing in a desolate, darker alley. There was no one around, nothing but rats and cats sniffing around trash bins and dumpsters. Hermione, however, felt another presence in the area, and snatched her wand out of her pocket, holding it defensively in front of her. It was dark, however not dark enough that she couldn't see. There was no need to use Lumos.

Her heart beat faster and her palms began sweating. Her wide eyes glistened and she tried not to breathe too loudly. Swallowing, she spun around quickly, expecting someone there, behind her, but she saw nothing. Before she could even relax tensed muscles, a hand came and clamped down around her throat from behind and she was suddenly bombarded with a wave of body heat from whoever was behind her.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of a spell that she could send without seeing her attacker. The instant she brought her arm up, having spun her wand in her palm so it would point in the correct direction, another hand grabbed her wrist so hard that she felt bones creak under pressure and she dropped her wand, letting out a painful moan.

Her hands then grasped at the fingers and wrist belonging to the hand that was nearly crushing her windpipe. She scraped with fingers, wondering if this was a Death Eater, or if she had just wound up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her mind was starting to go as the amount of oxygen intake was slowly becoming lower, so Apparating would most definitely end in Splinching.

"Please," she gasped out as her feet began to leave the ground.

A sudden booming noise of a gigantic firework made her attacker loosen his grip and Hermione managed to drop to the ground, coughing and trying to take in air as she felt around in the dark, puddle-filled ground for her wand. She stood quickly, the air helping her regain her muscle control. She pointed her wand at the looming figure and rubbed her throat with her other hand.

In the sky, waterfalls of purple, green and white fell through the sky. The new light allowed Hermione the ability to look at her attacker. He was large…very large, dressed in black and could very well have been a Death Eater if he hadn't been wearing Muggle clothes.

"Who are you?" she said loudly, her voice echoing in the thin alley.

A rumbling chuckle grew from the man, and he turned, showing him her face. Animalistic; his eyes were dark and dangerous. He smirked, showing elongated canines. Hermione took a step backwards, however she hardened her gaze and tightened the grip on her wand.

"You're one to ask, little lady," he replied, voice deep and just as rumbling as his laugh.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and yelled, "_Stupefy_!" swishing her wand and watching as the spell shot the man backward thirty feet. Lowering her wand, she glanced around and took to running in the opposite direction, rounding a corner to her right. She was suddenly confronted with a glorious, bright sight on the other side of the buildings. She raced towards the lights and crowd and found herself smack dab in the middle of some sort of epic celebration.

Fireworks, costumes, plumes of feathers and fancy masks were everywhere. She heard French being spoken more than English, however she had heard of no such place as this in France before.

Lights danced in her eyes. She couldn't help but take a moment to stare. Shoving her wand in her pocket for fear of dropping it, she pushed her way through the crowd and down to the nearest lit up side street that wasn't as filled as the main strip.

Lanterns were strung just about everywhere, especially in the small courtyard she found herself in. There was a small fountain in the middle, and there were plenty of people in the area, but not nearly as many as that other street. Spotting a small café in one of the buildings, Hermione ran the back of her hand over her forehead and pushed her hair back, hoping she would finally have a moment to breath and think.

She quickly pulled out some Muggle money from her tiny bag, glad she had thought to bring some along with her on the trip for the Horcruxes.

She, however, was told that she was in Louisiana, and had the wrong money, but the woman behind the counter gave her the cup of coffee for free. At least Hermione now knew where she was.

Taking a seat in one of the two small tables outside, she finally felt like she could breathe. She sipped the coffee, surrounded by the merrymaking and the music from all around her. Louisiana…The United States…from what she had read, this could be Mardi Gras, which would explain the partying.

She had just made it through half of her cup when she was joined by the man from just minutes before. Her heart skipped and she jumped back, knocking the chair over as he settled himself down in the tiny chair and folded his hands together on the table. Hermione's eyes widened as she saw claws instead of fingernails. She had never heard of such a creature in all of her reading, which scared her.

"Who are you?" she repeated, hand hovering over her wand.

"Nice trick," he growled. "What sort of power is that?"

Hermione swallowed, holding her ground. "What…what are you talking about?"

He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward her wand hand. "Runaway? Secret agency?"

Hermione, wide eyed and utterly confused, picked up her chair slowly, however she didn't sit back down. "Runaway," she said slowly. "Are you going to kill me?"

"I should," he replied, claws growing.

Hermione swallowed and sat slowly. "But you would have already…if you were?"

"Something like that."

She licked her bottom lip and reached forward for her drink. "Who are you?" This was her third time asking, she would hope he would have the decency of telling her this time.

He tilted his head to the side. "Victor…Creed," he finished, however it was uncommon that he used that name anymore.

Hermione nodded. "Penelope," she told him, using the same name she told Snatchers.

"Your name is a fruit."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "Not…exactly." She took a small sip of coffee. "Are you…running away too, Victor?"

He leaned forward, and she held her breath. "Does it look like I have something to run away from?"

Hermione gnawed on her bottom lip and glanced down at her lap. "Possibly," she said quietly.

Victor growled and Hermione looked over the table at him. He might have been clenching his jaw and looking menacingly across at her, but she didn't feel the need to flee.

"Is this New Orleans?" Hermione asked, tapping the edge of her cup.

"I'm here tracking down a lousy, thieving rat," was his reply, however he didn't say it wasn't the city she asked for, so she assumed that it was.

"I'm running from…very horrible people. I landed here…thank you for the welcome," she added with sarcasm.

He smirked. "I thought you could give me a good scream."

Hermione swallowed, his comment sending chills through her. She watched his eyes rise to something over her shoulder, and Hermione turned, only to be confronted by the very thing she had been trying to forget about for at least an hour: a Death Eater, hidden behind their mask, dressed in black like floating shadows, wand hidden.

Hermione gasped and fell from the chair, landing on her back, nearly breaking her wand. A throaty whisper from behind the mask and a raised wand sent Hermione writhing and trying to hold in her screams as it felt as if her insides were being cut with razors. The spell lasted but a few seconds, however they felt like an eternity.

Victor, having no sort of thoughts for Hermione—or Penelope, for that matter—would never object to fighting someone who was asking for it. He launched himself over the table with a snarl, hitting the unsuspecting Death Eater and causing them both to fall to the ground.

Gasping for breath, Hermione scrambled to her feet and grabbed her wand as the Death Eater Disappared from under Victor. Hermione whirled around, trying to be ready for the dark wizard anywhere. They appeared across the table and Hermione yelled "_Protego!_" just as the Death Eater snarled out another "_Crucio!_" With her counter charm, the torture spell backfired and the Death Eater went down from the unexpected turn of events.

Hermione meant to Apparate away from here, but her mind was all out of sorts from the Cruciatus Curse and she could barely stand because her legs felt like jelly. Thankfully for her, just as the Death Eater stopped twitching and was just starting to sit up, Victor pounced, more animalistic than Hermione had ever seen anyone act, except for a werewolf.

Long claws scraped away the metal mask, revealing the wizard's face. Hermione didn't get a chance to see who it was before Victor swiped at the man's face, slicing through the delicate human skin, before reaching a hand around the blinded man's throat and, with a single wrist movement, snapped the Death Eater's neck.

Hermione gasped from her spot, gripping the sides of the small table, which, if it had not been screwed down, would have fallen over by now.

The Death Eater disappeared into black mist, cursed to return to The Dark Lord if killed. Victor seemed less perplexed from the act than Hermione would have guessed. He stood and flexed his killing fingers.

Somehow, no one around them had even noticed. They were too excited, too high, too drunk to realize what was going on around them. For that, Hermione was grateful.

Victor turned to Hermione, the animal still in his eyes. She stood, her legs almost back to normal, and reached down to get her bag, which had slid off her during the small brawl. She held it tightly in her hand and stuck her wand back into her pocket with the other.

"You don't see that everyday," Victor finally growled.

Hermione nodded, still trying to catch her breath. "I've been…running from him for a little while. Him…along with others like him."

Victor stepped up to the outer edge of the café's small patio. "Why?" He didn't sound too curious; his words came out harsh and jarring.

She swallowed, contemplating how he was dealing with all the strange things that followed her, and decided that she might as well tell the truth for once in her life. "I'm a witch."

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it was not this. Victor didn't even flinch, or ask her to repeat what she had said. He shrugged a shoulder and grumbled something, looking around the courtyard before his eyes fell on her, freezing her on the spot.

"I don't work well with others," Victor cautioned. "I don't kill someone to save someone either. Come with me, or I _will_ kill you. Bring your fancy stick too."

Hermione swallowed. From what she had just witnessed to her first meeting with the man, she knew that he was not bluffing. He could snap her like a twig. She nodded feverishly, creating a cascading amount of hair to fall from her tie. So much fell, in fact, that she just pulled it out of her curls and snapped it around her wrist.

Victor turned, his coat billowing out behind him like it was in a film. He started walking diagonally across the courtyard, and Hermione followed. She was forced to stay close to him while they fought through the crowds, lest she lost him and he would blamed her for coping out of their deal. She tried not to watch his hands—claws, specifically—while they moved through the decidedly warm streets. It was much different here than back in England, where everything was frozen over and covered in snow.

Swallowing away pain and confusion, the young witch, the brightest of her age, tagged along after the intimidating and obviously psychotic man without a choice. Was this worth leaving Harry and Ron for? She had no idea, but Victor _had_ just saved her life, so she supposed that she _did_ owe him something for that.

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_**A/N:** This was going to be a one shot….but once I started writing, it turned into something a bit more. It's going to be a few chapters. Not over ten, but more than two. I hope you can enjoy it as much as I do!_


	2. With The Thieves

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I own the writing and story.**

Fandoms: Harry Potter, X-Men  
>Notes: This will probably have one more chapter after this. :] thanks EVERYONE who reviewed the first chapter! I'm so glad to know I haven't lost my writing touch, and I'm sorry this took so long! There will be a final, short chapter after this.<br>Summary: What if it was Hermione that left Harry and Ron during their quest to find the Horcruxes? She ends up in America, and comes across the complex world of mutants.

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**With The Thieves**

"What is this place?" Hermione asked as she was forced into a small building. There were so many people inside that she felt like she had just jumped into a sardine can. And here she had been thinking how crowded the streets were.

She heard nothing from Victor, who followed her in. People of all sorts were in the place, although there were fewer crazy costumes and masks. Cigarette smoke filled the air and Hermione coughed, putting a hand over her nose and mouth to try to filter out the smell.

Hermione's eyes adjusted to the smoke and dim lighting in the room slowly, so she found herself constantly bumping into people, mostly Victor. The huge man finally stopped, causing her to literately crash into him. He said nothing, only grunted, and she pushed aside someone so she could stand beside him. They were at a railing and the floor dropped a few feet in front of them, where there was a larger floor filled with poker and pool tables.

"You brought me to a bar?" Hermione said over the chattering and music.

Victor surveyed the crowd, searching. Without warning, he swooped down, face coming within an inch of Hermione's. "There's someone here I need to talk to."

Hermione tried to hide the fear from her voice but her eyes betrayed her. "Then go talk to them," she said.

"_You_ need to."

"Why?"

"He won't come nicely if he knows it's me. Talk to him." He gripped her chin between powerful, clawed fingers and turned it in the proper direction. With his other hand, he pointed to a man wearing a hat, sitting at one of the poker tables. "Get him to the back alley."

With that, Victor disappeared through the throng of the crowd, though his space beside her was soon filled with other bodies. Hermione contemplated trying to run. Where would she run to? Could she really Apparate across the Atlantic Ocean again so soon after her last jump? If she got Splinched, there would be no one there to help her. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she let out a breath through her nose. Victor had saved her from that Death Eater; she owed him.

Pushing through the crowd, she knew the sort of girl that everyone in this bar would be looking at, and it wasn't her. She somehow found the bathroom, which was surprisingly clean and empty. Slipping into the largest stall, Hermione pulled off her sweater and pushed it into her bag. She pulled out a small towel and spelled it to clean and she quickly wiped her arms and neck and torso. She charmed her pants clean, since they were dirty and muddy. She changed her soaked sneakers for a pair of boots she had hastily thrown into the bag because they were her favorite shoes. They matched her clean pants well. Now she just had to find a proper shirt. She could already feel the sweat forming on the back of her neck and sighed. She found a tank-top and slipped it on before twisting it at the back and tying it into a small ball to show off a sliver of her stomach. Nodding, she put her wand into her bag—she didn't want it so far away, but it had to be done for this to work—and walked out of the stall. Using a small mirror above the sink, she damped her hair, though it was still bushy and full, surrounding her face like a lion's mane. Her eyes looked haunted, so she hid behind a stall and fished out her wand to conjure up some make-up to try to lessen the darkness in her eyes.

Finally ready, she looked at herself once more before the mirror and wondered what it would be like if she dressed like this all of the time. The way boys treated her would probably be different. That was the whole reason for this outfit, wasn't it? To get a man's attention. Before she started really thinking about it, she stepped out the room, her bag clinging to a beltloop on her jeans. She did a quick scan for Victor but he was no where in sight. She set her eyes upon the man in the hat and made her way through the crowd, feeling as if too many eyes were upon her.

The heat from the room didn't feel so extreme now that she was out of her sweater, though she still felt warm and her heart beat wildly against her chest. She had no idea what type of person this man was. There was a small crowd around his table: he was playing against a man in a cowboy hat with a cigar. Hermione joined the group—who where mostly women—and watched the man Victor wanted her to get for him. His face was hidden in shadows, though she could see his shirt was made of purple silk and he handled a deck of cards like an absolute pro.

The man in the cowboy lost all of his money and went off steaming. The crowd dissipated slightly and Hermione took the opportunity to slip into the unoccupied seat. She rested her arms on the table, leaning forward slightly, trying to get a good look at his face.

"_Bonjour, mon cheri_," he said, leaning forward as well, though his hat still caused a shadow across his face.

Hermione smiled, trying to look as interested as possible. "_Bonsoir, monsieur_," she replied. "I must say, you are very good at poker."

"_Merci_," he tilted his head down in respect. "What may I do for you?"

The gears in Hermione's mind worked for an excuse that would force him to take her outside. To the back, Victor specified. "I'm afraid I've lost my way. I cannot seem to find the way back to where I'm staying and you…seem like you would be able to take me there."

She suspected that his eyes narrowed at her statement, but that was only suspicion. He began shuffling the deck in his hand, fingers moving fast and flawlessly. "I t'ink I can do dat," he finally said, standing and pulling on a long coat all in one sweep. He pocket the deck and walked around the table, hand outstretched toward her. "De name is Gambit, _mon cheri_."

Hermione took his hand and stood. "Penelope," she replied. It was still too dark to see his face completely, but he smiled slightly and his hand fell from hers to the small of her back, guiding her toward the back corner of the building.

"An' where are we going, _mon cheri_?" Gambit asked, his breath hot on her neck.

Of course he would ask where she was staying. And she had no idea of any hotel or place to stay around here. She should have thought about this longer. Just as she opened up her mouth and hope something good spilled out, someone punched someone else in the crowd behind them and a brawl began. Gambit quickly ushered her out of a door that led to the cooler air outside. Hermione hoped she was doing the right thing. She would not be an accomplice in murder if that is what Victor had in mind for Gambit.

"It is so hot here, I'm not used to it," she blurted out, turning to face him. The lights from the nearby street allowed her to finally see his face. He was young looking, probably his mid-twenties, with a small amount of facial hair and…his eyes. They were completely black, with red irises. Hermione tried not to gasp, and, almost thankfully, that was when Victor stepped out from behind a fire escape where he had been lingering in the shadows.

Gambit turned swiftly, pushing Hermione behind him and pulling a short staff from beneath his coat. How could he be wearing a coat? It was so very hot.

Victor growled, walking into the middle of the alley. Hermione's eyes widened and she scurried off to the side, despite Gambit's hisses for her to stay behind him. She undid the tie at the back of her shirt as she watched the tension between the two men grow.

"Victor," Gambit said finally, his hand tight around the staff. "What an…unpleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"

Victor growled and Hermione saw his claws grow even from where she crouched. "You stole something from me."

Gambit didn't even bat an eye. "I did? Name it, I shall give it back t'you."

"My brother." Victor's eyes hardened.

Hermione took in a sharp breathe and a wave of sadness pulsed through her. She had no idea what blood was between Gambit and Victor but it didn't seem to be good. She sensed more emotion than just anger in Victor's voice, and she couldn't blame him. She knew what it was like to lose family.

Gambit lowered his arms and swallowed before looking up at Victor. "I did not take anyt'ing from your brother, _Monsieur_ Creed. 'Twas Stryker. Ademantium bullets so Logan would forget. His brain is damaged; dere be not'ing dere t'steal."

Victor clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, which, for a moment, flicked over to Hermione, who was now wringing the string on her bag, a pitying expression on her face. "He doesn't even remember _me_," Victor growled to Gambit, "his own flesh and blood. Over a century spent fighting along side one another and he doesn't even remember."

Time to step in. "I really think Gambit is telling the truth," she started, walking almost between the two men. "Amnesia…it's painful for those of us left behind, honestly, I do know." She really did. It wasn't long ago that she had erased her parents' memories of her.

Victor didn't take his eyes off Gambit, who was now looking the larger man right in the eye. Hermione swore that time slowed down as the next set of events happened. Gambit twirled his staff and it grew four times its length. Victor growled, low and menacing, and started running toward Gambit on all fours like a cat. He pushed Hermione back with one large, clawed hand and she went stumbling into a pile of black trash bags as Victor pounced on Gambit. Gambit's staff glowed purple and Victor went flying as an explosion seemed to go off right from Gambit. Hermione scrambled to her feet and pressed herself against the smooth stone of the building behind her.

Smaller explosions came shooting out of Gambit's hand, heading right for where Victor was in the process of getting to his feet to attack again. The four small glowing things hit Victor square in the chest and exploded on impact, causing him to fall backwards into a building, crumbling some of the brick. Hermione watched wide eyed, wanting to stop it all. She had enough of fighting.

Pulling her wand from her bag, she watched as Gambit jogged toward Victor, noticing that the small explosions were caused by his deck of cards. Shaking her head, she focused on the two bodies and pointed her wand, uttering, "_Petrificus Totalus_." Both of the men fell straight as boards from the spell and Hermione pushed the wand into her pocket as she walked over to them. She rolled Gambit over, since he had fallen face first. Victor was glaring at her as she stood back and looked down at the two of them. "The spell will wear off in a few minutes, there's no point in struggling," she said. "Now that I have your undivided attention, I have something to say to you. I have no idea of the situation you two are in, but from what I've gathered, Victor has lost his brother, Logan, who has amnesia. Victor blames Gambit for that, though I have no idea why. Gambit seems to have no connection with that. I can do a truth spell if you're so keen on knowing exact details.

"I came to this place to get away from fighting. I won't allow either of you to destroy yourselves while I watch. As soon as I'm gone, you can do as you please, I really don't care."

She felt exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally. She really just wanted to sleep, but this had to be dealt with first.

"I don't see how you can repair amnesia, Victor. There's not even a magical way to do so. I'm afraid I cannot help you with that, and I am truly sorry. My parents have no memory of me, so I do know how you feel. But please, stop attacking Gambit, for at least as long as I'm around?"

Both men started to feel their limbs become less restricted. Gambit turned his head this way and that and sat up, resting his arms on his knees. Victor grumbled and pushed himself to his feet. Hermione stood her ground and waited for their responses.

"Fine," Victor finally submitted. "But he's dead the second you turn your back."

Gambit got swiftly to his feet and dusted off his jacket, taking off his hat and bowing in front of Hermione before placing it back on. "Dis magic you speak of. Is it real?" he asked, ignoring Victor's statement.

"You have glowing bombs that come from a deck of cards," Hermione pointed out. "I'm not even going to ask about it. I just want to sleep and then try to get back home. Will you please help me?"

"Of course, _mon cheri._ I have a place you can stay."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you." She snuck a glance at Victor who was still standing there, the menace ever present in his eyes. "More of those men might come," she prodded.

Victor looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "And?"

She raised herself up to her full height. "I helped you talk with Gambit. You can spend five hours making sure I don't get killed in my bed!" She reminded herself of Mrs. Weasley for a moment.

Victor said nothing, but he didn't leave either, so Hermione took it as a yes to him staying and keeping watch over her.

Gambit shook his head and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder after shrinking his staff and placing it underneath his jacket once again. "De place is close_. __Suivez-moi._"

Hermione had no choice but to walk beside him and Victor followed like a growling shadow. This part of New Orleans was old; she could tell from the building materials and architecture. They reached a small building that looked indistinguishable the others and Gambit stopped, holding the door for Hermione. There was no one inside, everyone was at the party, so Gambit simply took a key from a ring behind the desk and trailed behind Hermione until they reached a room on the top floor. He opened the door for her and she went inside. It was a tiny room, with a bed, bureau and an incredibly tiny bathroom in the corner. There was also a small balcony, which is where Victor went first.

"Thank you so much," Hermione told Gambit. "I really appreciate this."

"_Vous êtes__la bienvenue_," he said, patting her hair and then glancing at Victor. "I hope he does not bodder you." He placed the key to the room on the bureau on his way out.

Hermione would have normally been very concerned staying in a room with a dangerous man standing six feet away, but she was so tired that she couldn't be bothered to be worried. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed, pulled off her boots and then slipped under the covers. She shimmied out of her jeans and tossed them next to her boots before pulling the thin cover and sheet over her and rolling onto her side. "Please don't kill me while I sleep," were her last words to Victor before she was pulled into dreamland.


	3. Homeward Bound

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I own the writing and story.**

Fandoms: Harry Potter, X-Men  
>Notes: This is the end. I know most of you wanted much more, but this was initially the only storyline I thought of when I got this little plot bunny, so I hope you enjoyed it anyway!<br>Summary: What if it was Hermione that left Harry and Ron during their quest to find the Horcruxes? She ends up in America, and comes across the complex world of mutants.

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**Homeward Bound**

Hermione did not sleep soundly. She didn't sleep better than she had the past few weeks, and she didn't sleep worse, either. The noise from the ever present party going on down on the streets was a welcome break from the whispers of the Horcrux. She dreamed of Harry and Ron and Hogwarts and the professors…it was as if her mind was telling her that she was homesick.

Victor was, despite his size, gracefully perched on the railing on the small balcony, overlooking the hustle and bustle going on down in the streets even as the sun began to light up the sky. He had no idea why he had stayed. He had no idea why he was going so against his nature. For him, going against nature was like how a dog felt when someone rubbed their fur the wrong way. It irked him to the core and yet, here he was, watching over a young-he wasn't sure what she was exactly, but he wasn't too concerned about that either—woman and he reminded himself of Logan for a moment. Logan, certainly, had slayed and killed many, but he had always kept composure and his hint of humanity had always been there. Victor had lost his humanity before it had even become fully his to begin with. And yet, he was here, helping this girl, not really thinking of the many things he _could_ do to her. It had only been over one hundred and fifty years since he had been born…one does tend to get tired after such a long time, if only momentarily, so you could catch your breath.

The sun peeked into the room, casting Victor's dark shadow into the room. A ray of light fell across Hermione's face and she stirred, scrunching up her nose and making a small sound of discomfort before putting a hand over her eyes and then realizing that she was not somewhere that she knew. It was unfamiliar. She sat bolt upright, heart beating fast, eyes searching wildly as her mind worked half-heartedly to figure out her current situation.

Then it all came back to her, and she spotted Victor, now standing in the doorway outside. He didn't even fit completely; the space was too short and not wide enough. He covered the whole space, and blocked light from coming into the room. Hermione stared at him, unsure of what to do. She had felt so sure last night, but that was because she hadn't even had time to think about what was happening.

Hermione's throat tightened and she pulled the thin blanket and sheet closer around her, not wanting to look as alarmed as she felt. Victor, however, gave her a shady look then spun, gripped the railing and threw himself over it. Hermione yelped, jumping from the bed and rushing over to the balcony. She nearly tumbled over it herself with the force of hitting it and gripping it with her hands. She looked down at the ground, quite a ways down, and saw nothing but some cats hanging around the garbage bins. Victor had somehow disappeared. She hadn't even gotten the chance to thank him.

Suddenly aware that she was only wearing a tank-top and her panties, Hermione hurried into the room and hadn't even made it to the other side of the bed when there was a slight tap on the door and then it just opened, without giving her a chance to say anything. She froze, like a deer in headlights, mid-step, barely dressed, eyes widening at the sight of the man from before, Gambit.

His face changed from slightly tired to surprised and then he turned his back to her quickly. "_Excusez-moi, mon cheri_," he said as she quickly pulled on her pants and sat down on the bed to pull on her shoes.

"It's fine," Hermione breathed, thankful for being fully clothed. "I'm afraid Victor left already."

Gambit tested the waters by glancing over his shoulder, and turned fully when he saw she was dressed. "Ah, I did not give him what he was lookin' for," he said, reproachful. "I am sorry 'bout dat."

Hermione had to kneel down on the floor and fish under the bed for her wand that had rolled there in her haste to sleep the previous night. Wand and bag in hand, Hermione turned to Gambit, who was watching her with those odd black and red eyes. "Um...I'm very grateful for the place to stay. _Merci_, Mr. Gambit."

He smiled at her. "Will you be leavin' now, den, _cheri_?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I have…there's someone waiting for me. I have to go help them finish what we started." We…because hadn't it been the three of them that went through the Devil's Snare and defeated the chess board during their first year at Hogwarts? It had always been them. The Golden Trio.

Gambit took of his hat and bowed. "Twas a pleasure meetin' you." He then straightened and opened the door for her, allowing her to pass through first. She thanked him again for allowing her to stay for free as they walked down the thin staircase to the front door. They parted ways then, after Hermione insisted that she could get home on her own.

To be honest, she had no idea how she had Apparated so far that first time. Perhaps because she was so angry and hurt? But even she knew that performing magic while under extreme emotion was never a good thing. She could have very well been Splinched. She shuddered at the thought and found a quiet spot in the alley beside the building to Apparate to a closer place. She thought of a state and Apparated until she reached the tip of Maine, which was still cold this time of the year. She contemplated going to Greenland then Iceland then Ireland then back to England; it would be freezing, so she bundled up before doing just that. It was the only way she could get back in one piece. And even Apparating that far, over the ocean was difficult and by the time she got to Ireland, she felt like her limbs were about to fall off. She forced herself to go once more, arriving back to the last place she and the boys had been camped. She hadn't been gone very long; they couldn't have gotten far.

The forest was creaking, swaying…Hermione almost missed the loud music and heat of Louisiana. She missed the ease, the way it felt like she had escaped, even just for a moment. But now…the forest was silent, it was still chilly and she knew that the Final Battle was coming soon. They had gotten the Horcruxes…almost all of them, at least. The last one…Harry was still figuring that out when she left.

Hermione thought of a spell as she walked, one that would allow her to find Harry and Ron once again. She doubted that Dumbledore would have imagined it would be her that would have left; what good would a child's storybook do her now?

She flinched at every broken branch, wondering if Snatchers would bombard her and hoping that she could just find Harry and Ron. She had been stupid; she had been hot-headed and hurt, something she was normally not. That was Ron's job, wasn't it?

Oh why had she left? She had been nearly mauled to death, found by Death Eaters, forced to play the girl-toy in a man's game…she should have stayed in England.

"Hermione!" The sudden voice caught her attention and her head snapped up. Ron and Harry were ahead of her, both of them looking at her like she was a saint coming to rescue them.

She didn't rush towards them like she wanted. She might have, if she hadn't Apparated across the Atlantic Ocean just minutes before. Tears prickled her eyes as she approached and she realized that they boys weren't carrying anything. "Where's the tent?" were the first words out of her mouth.

Harry stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a miniature tent. "Minimizing spell…only—"

"We can't…un-minimize it," Ron finished.

Hermione smiled through tears. "I leave for a moment and you two get into trouble." She shook her head and then hugged them both quickly before instructing Harry to put the tent down. He did, and she reversed the spell. The tent sprang up and Harry went around setting the shield spells.

Ron was looking rather unsure of himself, glancing at Hermione and then at the ground and back again.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked. She should probably apologize for leaving…but she could do that later, when both of them were there to hear it.

"Where'd you go?" Ron asked.

Hermione tilted her head upwards and thought about the question. Flashes of the heat, the people, the sights, sounds and smells filled her mind. Victor, Gambit, their fight over a lost brother… "Solving other people's problems again, now wasn't I?" she muttered to herself before turning to Ron. "Doesn't matter. I came back to finished what we started."

"I," Harry corrected, coming up behind her.

"We," Hermione and Ron said in unison, before shooting a grin at each other.

Harry nodded. "Alright. We."


End file.
